


Adoption

by Cantatrice18



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3065660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm decides to take the next logical step with Vanessa.</p><p>Spoilers for 1x08</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adoption

“Come in,” he called, in response to a light knock on the door. He did not look up from his work, but the rustle of fabric let him know exactly who it was. “Ah, Vanessa. Sign these.”

He gestured towards a small stack of papers and watched her approach out of the corner of his eye. He’d deliberately covered up the heading of the documents, but as he suspected Vanessa’s curiosity got the better of her and she shifted the papers so that she could read what they said. He heard a sharp intake of breath, felt the weight of her piercing gaze upon him. “Adoption?”

He sighed, laying his pen down carefully so as not to smudge his own writing. “If you are to remain in this house as my daughter, it might as well be officially recognized.” Without meaning to he glanced up at her. Her eyes were wide and her hands shook slightly as she ran a finger over the impersonal words. “You don’t have to do this,” she murmured.

“I know I don’t.” He struggled to quell annoyed tone in his voice, the one that so often appeared when he spoke to her. She brought out his vicious streak, every aspect of her so different from the golden-haired daughter he'd loved. 

To his surprise Vanessa stepped away from the desk, making no move towards the pen. Frowning, he pushed back his chair and stood. Far from looking pleased, Vanessa’s expression was one of confusion and distrust. “Why? What do you stand to gain?”

“Must you always be so mercenary?” When she did not answer, he pursed his lips, tapping one finger on the desk. “Alright. If I must spell it out for you, I shall. You are all I have left. You are not the daughter I wanted, that much is certain, but my children are dead and you remain. After Mina…” he paused, collecting himself. “That night in the theater, when it became clear that Mina was beyond our help, I saw something different in you, something I had not noticed before. Perhaps you’d hidden it, or maybe I was just too blinded by hatred to see it. You were so beautifully human, in the face of her savagery, and I was reminded of when you were a child. I could not bear to lose you as well.” 

He reached forward and brushed a tear from her cheek. Impulsively, he gathered her into his arms, embracing her thin figure and allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. Her long fingers clutched at his shirt, and he could hear her shallow breathing as she fought back a sob. He stood holding her for a moment, then stepped away, drawing himself up and regaining his usual composure. “Now, will you sign? I have a great deal to do this morning, and can’t waste any more time on sentimental explanation.”

She smiled slightly, understanding the reason for his gruffness. “Of course, Sir Malcolm.” 

It was the work of a moment to affix her graceful signature to the papers. With a final nod to him, she left, shutting the door behind her. Sir Malcolm remained, staring down at the lines of bureaucratic text and wondering how much different his life had just become.


End file.
